The Old Fisherman

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Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic. One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight year old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face - lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face...I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."

For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning." I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.

When I finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said "Could I please come back and stay next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit, I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grown-ups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told him he was welcome to come again.

On his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 am and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us. In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"

Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have know him, perhaps their illness' would have been easier to bear. I know our family will always be grateful to have know him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!"

My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."

She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the seet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body." All this happened long ago and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.

Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.

-- Author Unknown

Hi Pauline,

   I wanted to come back to say thank you to one of our newer members here in Adland, Joe Downing.

  Joe has only been here for two months, but in that time he has become a big part of this community.

  I have watched Joe, and he goes and participates in forums, and always has something good and positive to say.

 His own forums are filled with laughter and joy.

  I don't know Joe that well, but I think that we as older members should take the time to appreciate the new members that are becoming such a big part of our wonderful community.

Thank you, my friend.

I hope all is well with you and yours.

Your Good Friend

Deborah

Hi My Dearest Friend Pauline!

After I won the POTW, I was thinking that it's so nice that people who win have such a great opportunity to expose their busines, to get introduced to the community, to make new friends. When we win or vote we don't usually think who is behind this reward, how much efforts and time is spent by people who are doing their best to keep the POTW going.

I want to express my high appreciation to my dear friend John S. I remember that something did not work when he was preparing the forum, and he spent a significant part of his nighttime to fix the problem instead of having rest.

It was a very exciting and unforgettable week for me.  But I would not have the opportunity to enjoy it if John S. did not do his important job. Thank you, John! I also want to thank Pauline, who helps John S. to keep this special community spirit.

Also I want to say my new friends Joyce Hyde,  Ricardo Alcaraz from Philippines, Terry Gorley, Phil B. and many other my precious friends that I love you.

God bless you all,

Your friend,

Natalya